Poetry

Half the loft in darkness,
Half the flowers watered,
Daylight shines halfway across the floor
Like a line he drew
With a yellow marker.
 
Half his mail unopened,
Half his cat visible,
One speaker crackles in and out,
A spark of recognition
Comes and goes.
 
He smiles like a canvas
With a middle margin,
And pointing to a window
Beside his easel
Perfect halves meet.